Without stinginess he partook of the good things heaven to man supplies; he was “full fed;” his face shone with good-humour, and he was as fond of a joke as of the Squire’s old port. As a justice of the peace he was no regarder of persons, providing they equally brought grist to his mill; he had no objection to litigants smoothing the way to a decision by presents, such as a piece of pork, a pork pie, or a dish of fish; once or twice, however, he found the fish to have been caught the previous night out of his own pond. Next to a weakness for fish was one for knee-breeches and top-boots, which in the course of much riding required frequent renewal; and, ’tis said, that seated in his judicial chair, he has had the satisfaction of seeing a pair of new chalked tops projecting alike from plaintiff’s and defendant’s pockets. In which case, with spectacles raised and head thrown back, as though to look above the petty details of the plaint, after sundry hums and haws, with inquiries after the crops between, and each one telling some news about his neighbour, he would find the evidence on both sides equally balanced and suggest a compromise! A good tale is told of the justice wanting a hare for a friend, and employing a notorious poacher to procure one. The man brought it in a bag. “You’ve brought a hare, then?” “I have, Mr. Stephens, and a fine one too,” replied the other, as he turned it out, puss flying round the room, and over the table amongst the papers like a mad thing. “Kill her! kill her!” shouted Stephens. “No, by G—,” replied the poacher, who knew that by doing so he would bring himself within the law, “you kill her; I’ve had enough trouble to catch her.” After two or three runs the justice succeeded in hitting her on the head with a ruler, and thus brought himself within the power of the poacher. The parson was sometimes out of temper, and then he swore, but this was not often; still his friends were wont to joke him on the following domestic little incident:—His services were suddenly in demand on one occasion when, a full clerical costume being required, he found his bands not ready, and he set to work to iron them himself. He was going on swimmingly as he thought, and had only left the iron to go to the bottom of the stairs, with a “D—n you, madam,” to his wife, who had not yet come down; “d—n you, I can do without you,” when, on returning, he found his bands scorched and discoloured.